


With His Need Laid Bare

by Laylah



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Blindfolds, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, Kidnapping Roleplay, Light Bondage, M/M, Shaving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-12-09 12:36:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11669250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laylah/pseuds/Laylah
Summary: Should he demand that Niles stop—should he even call Niles by name—that would put an end to this. They would return to being lord and retainer and things would no longer be so uncomfortable, so unsettled. Leo holds his tongue.





	With His Need Laid Bare

**Author's Note:**

  * For [j_marquis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/j_marquis/gifts).



The Woods of the Forlorn earn their name honestly, forbidding and dark, the air heavy with the scent of rotting leaves. The ground is untrustworthy underfoot even where it isn't marshy and noxious. Leo misses his horse. He'd much prefer to traverse dangerous terrain on horseback, but for this particular venture he did agree that it would be logistically easier to manage on foot.

That doesn't mean he has to enjoy this, though, when the terrain slows his passage and the trees obscure his line of sight. He makes his way carefully around another patch of bog, working his way north. There is a trap here somewhere, and he intends to spring it.

Niles was maddeningly vague about how this would go when they discussed it beforehand. He knows full well how difficult it is for Leo to commit to things he doesn't know the details of in advance. That's probably at least part of why he withholds information; it's clear he enjoys being witness to the struggle. But the struggle also helps make Leo stronger, so he doesn't demand that Niles stop.

Mud sucks at his boots as he treads a narrow, relatively safe path between two stagnant ponds. "Where _are_ you?" he mutters. The anticipation is the worst part.

Two dozen paces further on, the ground begins to slope gently upward. Perhaps he's out of the worst of the swamp. Leo quickens his pace.

Something snags his hair and yanks his head back. He cries out in surprise and the sharp edge of a blade presses against his throat.

"Awfully far from your castle, milord," Niles murmurs. The blade presses against Leo's skin a little harder. "Do us a favor and drop that pretty pigsticker you're carrying, hmm?"

The shock humming through Leo's nerves is equal parts terror and arousal, his face flushing hot as he fumbles to unbuckle his sword belt. "Villain," he breathes, and speaking even that much affects the pressure of the blade at his throat.

Niles laughs, low and wicked, as Leo's sword hits the forest floor. "That I am," he says. "And here you are, all by your lonesome, with no soldiers to come running when you cry for help."

The easy menace in his voice makes Leo's cock throb. "What do you want?"

"Your hands behind your back, for a start," Niles says.

Leo wonders for a moment if he should be resisting, but the knife is a good enough reason not to. He crosses his wrists at the small of his back.

Niles lets go of his hair. There's a shift of cloth, a clink of metal, and then shackles close around Leo's wrists, so quickly it's almost alarming; he's seen Niles make use of that talent when they were hunting down brigands together, but never realized quite _how_ quickly Niles could move to accomplish the capture. The iron weighs heavily on his wrists and his heart is in his throat.

"You know there's no profit to be had in taking me captive," Leo says. "My father will sooner kill you than give you any satisfaction from this."

"Oh, he's not the one I want satisfaction from, milord." The knife leaves his throat and then Niles is wrapping a length of dark silk around Leo's eyes. "You'll do just fine for that." He ties off the blindfold, snug but not uncomfortably tight, and Leo tries to relax into the darkness. It's hard; like not having details about a situation, not being able to see is a loss of control, something that's rarely safe and never comfortable.

"Now then," Niles says, pressing a hand flat between Leo's shoulderblades. "If milord would care to step this way?"

"I don't have much choice, do I?" Leo asks.

The only answer he gets is a push that sends him stumbling forward. His steps come slow and halting, on unfamiliar ground and without the ability to see hazards in his path. Niles does at least keep a hand on his back to steer him in the right direction, which is some small comfort. Niles wouldn't let him stumble into a patch of quicksand or blunder face-first into a tree, he's fairly sure, but it's still hard to keep moving. He wants to be able to rely on his own senses, not someone else's aid. Trust doesn't come easily to anyone raised on the intrigues of Castle Krakenburg.

It feels like they've been walking in silence for an unbearably long time—he'd swear it's been an hour, except that Leo knows if he's being reasonable it can't have been nearly that long—when Niles says, "Careful here, milord, you'll be taking three steps up."

Leo nods once and takes the next step carefully. The surface underfoot is more level than the forest ground, and reassuringly solid. On the second step he hears a creak: wood, then. Wooden stairs, leading.... "Where have you taken me?"

"Someplace we can get comfortable," Niles says, maddeningly—deliberately—vague. "Wouldn't want milord to have to sprawl in the mud and get filthy."

Hinges creak and then Niles is guiding him forward again, and even with the blindfold on Leo can make out the sudden loss of light. There's a building out here in the depths of the forest, a building that must be in fairly decent condition, since the floor is stable and solid underfoot and the air smells of nothing more offensive than dust.

A latch clicks behind them and then Niles' hand leaves his back. "Make yourself at home," Niles says, in that dry jesting tone he's so fond of. "I'll only be a minute."

As if Leo would try to go somewhere when he's shackled and blindfolded in a place he's never been before. He waits, listening carefully and trying to get a sense of what's going on. Niles moves quietly, a legacy of all those years as a thief, but the hiss and scratch of a flame being lit is clear enough. The light coming in around the edges of Leo's blindfold brightens and warms.

"There, that's a bit better." Niles comes closer as he speaks, and the next words are delivered from directly behind Leo: "Now, let's get started, shall we?" His hands settle lightly on the catches that hold Leo's breastplate in place.

Leo takes half a step away, as much as he dares when he's so uncertain of his position. "You take too many liberties, rogue."

"I've not yet taken half so many as I will," Niles promises. "Do cooperate, or I'll have to use force. You're ill-prepared to defend yourself."

That's a diplomatic offer, though Niles would probably scoff to hear it called as much. If Leo resists, there will be pain; if he cooperates, there will be... what? He licks his lips. "You have me at your mercy."

"I do," Niles murmurs, sounding far more gentle than the situation warrants. He goes back to unfastening Leo's armor, and this time Leo doesn't fight it. His hands are deft and quick, divesting Leo of the protection he wears any time he leaves the castle. Each piece that comes away leaves him feeling a little lighter, a little more exposed.

Should he demand that Niles stop—should he even call Niles by name—that would put an end to this. They would return to being lord and retainer and things would no longer be so uncomfortable, so unsettled. Leo holds his tongue. The last of his armor is lifted away and a little shiver runs down his spine.

"So many layers to peel you out of, milord," Niles says, sounding faintly reproachful. He pulls Leo's shirtfront away from his skin. There's a sharp tug and—a shift in his grip?—and then the raw sharp sound of linen tearing. Leo's cock jumps and he tries his best to make his stifled noise of response more like outrage than need.

Niles pushes his torn-open shirt off his shoulders, letting the fabric bunch around his wrists. "Not a mark on you." The point of his blade touches Leo's collarbone, following that line to the hollow at the base of his throat and then trailing slowly down. "It's enough to make a man wish you'd resist, just for the excuse to give you some."

"I hope you don't think I'll be intimidated by your villainy," Leo says, holding as still as he can even as Niles slips the point of the knife under the waistband of his trousers.

"Certainly not." Another tearing sound as Leo's trousers yield to the blade. Niles' hand cups Leo's cock through his smallclothes and squeezes, firm and warm. "I must say, this doesn't look like intimidation at all."

Leo's cheeks heat and he tries not to let Niles see him wince; for all that it's no surprise, having Niles make a point of noticing his arousal, drawing attention to it, still makes him want to squirm. And the need to squirm, in turn, makes the arousal worse. "Do what you will."

"I haven't been waiting on your permission," Niles purrs. Leo doesn't thrust into his hand, but it's a near thing.

Niles strips him of everything but the shackles and the blindfold, and if Leo cooperates a bit more with the removal of his boots than he probably should, well, neither of them say so. The air is warm enough that it isn't physically uncomfortable to be naked—only emotionally unsettling, and if Leo minded _that_ , he wouldn't be here in the first place.

After Niles gets the last of Leo's clothes off, he backs him up against the wall with a hand planted in the middle of his chest. He's gentle but implacable. Leo lifts his chin. "Whatever you're planning—"

"Oh, I've put you here for your own good, milord," Niles says. "You're going to want to hold _very_ still for this next bit."

He lets go and Leo doesn't move, trying to listen for clues as to what Niles has planned. None of the soft sounds he hears are identifiable until the floorboards creak right in front of him. Something chilly and wet touches him, beside his cock at first and then circling around the base of it, cool slick...lather? smoothed over his skin. "What—"

"Don't move, milord," Niles says from where he must be kneeling at Leo's feet. "Unless I'm very much mistaken about you, you don't want my blade to slip here."

The sharp edge of a blade comes to rest low against Leo's belly and he scarcely breathes. Niles is right; he doesn't want any accidents happening here. He holds completely still as Niles draws the blade smoothly downward. Shaving him, he realizes when the blade lifts away and returns for a second stroke. Shaving around his cock and balls, leaving him even more stripped bare than if he were simply naked. He wants to ask why, what Niles is getting out of this, but the razor drags slowly over the delicate skin of his sac and he doesn't dare cause a distraction right now.

The damnable thing about it is that he's still achingly hard. Niles' touch is impersonal, almost incidental, handling him just enough to pull skin taut enough for the razor to pass over it smoothly—and Leo's body reacts as though he's being teased and fondled deliberately.

After the razor, there's a damp cloth passed over the newly bared skin—something soft enough that Niles probably took it from the castle, no rough scrap of an outlaw's gear. The skin around Leo's cock feels tender, unusually exposed, and he wants to see what it looks like, how different it must be from what he's used to.

"Lovely," Niles says, smug and pleased. "Stripped completely bare, bound and blinded, and—" his fingertips trace up the length of Leo's cock— "clearly delighted with your reduced circumstances, milord. Someone should have tried this with you years ago."

"Most people," Leo says, "aren't fool enough to try."

Niles laughs, then kisses him briefly. "And their lack of daring is my good fortune."

"Wretch," Leo says, which is the best he can manage in character. He wants to lean forward, to ask for another kiss with his body if not with his voice, but he holds still.

The floorboards creak once, and then there's silence. Leo waits, acutely aware of the faint currents of air on his skin, the weight of the shackles on his wrists, the fact that his cock stands at attention when he can't guarantee that Niles is even _looking_ at him. The moment stretches.

"What do you want?" Leo demands when he can't stand it anymore.

Niles laughs softly. He takes two—no, three—more steps, his tread barely audible. "Come here, milord, and I'll show you."

"You've no intention of making this easy for me, do you?" Leo asks.

"Of course not. Where's the fun in that?"

The sound of Niles' voice helps Leo get his bearings, and with that to guide him he takes a step away from the wall. It's daunting. There _probably_ isn't anything in the way for him to trip over, and everything he's felt so far suggests the floor in this room is even and whole—but believing that is different from knowing it, and knowing that Niles is watching each hesitant step makes him more self-conscious still.

Three steps. Four. He holds his breath, listening for any sound that could better orient him.

"Almost there," Niles says. Showing mercy.

"I hope you're having fun watching me stumble blindly," Leo answers, a little more sharply than he meant to. He can handle anything Niles has done to him, but the things Niles pushes him to do himself are always harder.

"Oh, I definitely am." Cloth shifts; a warning? "But it sounds like you're getting impatient, so let me help." Niles grabs Leo by the arm and pulls him forward sharply, unbalancing him so it becomes a simple matter to push him down—not onto the bare wood, but some thick cloth, as though there's a blanket spread over the floor. Leo makes a sharp, outraged noise, struggling ineffectually as Niles rolls him onto his stomach and presses his knees apart.

"You're wasted in that castle, locked away with nobody to make you scream." Niles slides a hand up the inside of Leo's thigh, intimately possessive.

"And you think you're the one to fix that, do you?" Leo does his best not to let his voice betray him, but his hips still hitch reflexively when Niles' fingers trace a ticklish spot.

"I'm not a good enough man to walk away from fortune's favor," Niles says. He reaches under Leo's body, cradling his balls in one hand. Leo arches up shamelessly, offering himself up in the hope that Niles will touch his cock next.

Contrariness runs in Niles' veins, though, and he takes his hand away instead of providing more. Leo can't help a sound of frustration. 

"Something the matter, milord?" Niles asks mildly. "Something you want to request?"

"You won't get me to beg that easily," Leo retorts.

"Good. That wouldn't be any fun." Niles' hands come back, spreading the cheeks of his ass, exposing him. One thumb strokes his crack slowly, oddly gentle; the blindfold makes him unnervingly conscious of the fact that he can't see what's going on but he's definitely being seen, being the focus of Niles' attention.

"Just—" Leo bites off the words before he can keep going. He's already said plenty.

"Just?" Niles echoes. "Just stop teasing and fuck you already? Just hurry up and stuff this pretty hole?"

Leo's hands flex and he writhes. He's never sure if actually saying yes would ruin a game like this—for either of them—so he doesn't, but it must be clear in the way he pushes into Niles' hands, the way he spreads his knees further apart.

"Well, I'd hate for you to find my hospitality lacking." Niles takes one hand away, but not for long, and when it returns his fingers are slippery with oil. He teases at Leo's hole only briefly before pressing in, smooth and confident, invasive in the best way. Leo pushes back to meet him, taking him deeper. "That's what I thought," Niles says. "This is what has you venturing out of your fancy castle in the first place, isn't it? Nobody treats you rough enough there."

"As if you'd know," Leo says, even though of course Niles _does_ know; Niles is the reason he figured out what a relief this sort of play could be.

"Easy enough to tell by the way you squirm for it, milord," Niles says. His fingers slide easily in Leo's ass, stretching him open; there's not a fiber of Leo's being that could convincingly resist. "You're lucky you ran into someone so attentive to your needs."

Leo huffs a short laugh. "Yes, this—" he tugs at his shackles, making the iron clink and rattle— "is definitely good luck."

"It is." With that tone, it seems a good bet Niles is grinning. "Let me show you."

He pulls out, and for a few excruciating seconds he isn't touching Leo at all. Then he's holding Leo's ass spread open and guiding his cock home, thick and hot and hard. Leo muffles his helpless moan in the blanket beneath him, but there's no disguising the hard shudder that runs through him as he's filled. 

Niles' hands wrap around his hips, holding him tight. "Not going to plead for mercy, milord?"

"Never," Leo says, and it sounds more like a moan than it should, this early, but he suspects neither of them minds.

That's all the encouragement Niles needs. He pulls back and slams in hard, rocking Leo's whole body against the blanketed floor. It's impossible to brace and push back with his hands bound, so Leo has no choice but to let each thrust move him. He pants for breath in time with the slap of flesh on flesh, and he can hear the low growling sounds of need that Niles doesn't quite manage to contain.

"Beast," Leo gasps. His cock aches, untouched between his thighs. "You selfish monster."

Niles laughs, as if he recognizes the request for what it is. "It's true, milord. Villains are terribly selfish people." He slows down into a grinding, relentless rhythm that keeps Leo so full it feels hard to breathe. "You can ask for what you want, you know. It just won't do you any good." The shifting pressure of his cock in Leo's ass is maddeningly pleasurable. "Your word's not law out here."

Leo sobs, squirming back into Niles' grip as best he can. He can't give the orders now, doesn't _need_ to give the orders now—it's freeing, a wonderful relief, and makes even the aching frustration of needing to come into its own kind of pleasure.

So of course that's the moment when Niles pulls out.

"What—" Leo tries to lift himself up off the floor, twisting as if he could look back at Niles over his shoulder. "What are you doing?"

"Don't sound so worried, milord, you'll have me back soon enough." Niles takes him by the shoulders and helps him sit up, then lets him go. Leo listens to the sounds of shifting cloth and skin, waiting, empty and hungry. "Now, come here."

Leo lets himself be steered, guided so he's straddling Niles' hips. "You'd have me ride you?"

Niles brushes teasing fingertips down the length of his cock and strokes his balls. "Seems a shame to make you look this pretty and then not admire you." Instead of leaving his hand there where it would do the most good, he slides it around to the back of Leo's thigh to coax him up. "There you go. Take it nice and deep and maybe you'll get what you need, too."

His cock nudges at Leo's hole and Leo pushes down, opening around it, letting his breath out in a low moan as it fills him again. 

"Lovely, milord," Niles murmurs. "Such a pretty picture you make, bare and smooth, pleasuring yourself shamelessly."

Probably he should have a retort for that, some argument still to make, but Leo finds that his words are deserting him. He can better control the angle of Niles' cock from this position, tilting his hips to make the pressure hit him just the way he likes it, as though it's rubbing up against the root of his cock from inside.

Niles shows mercy, taking hold of his cock and giving him a slow, hard stroke. The noise Leo makes in response would be embarrassing if he had any restraint left in him, but that seems irrelevant now, with Niles' cock buried deep in him and Niles' hand finally on him. He rocks into Niles' grip, moaning, heat pooling low in his gut.

"There, I knew you'd come around," Niles says. He thrusts up into Leo's ass, more urgent as Leo's composure fails. "You love this, don't you? Taken captive and used by a man who doesn't give a damn how important you are. Treated like a tight warm hole instead of an untouchable prince."

"Damn you," Leo gasps, by which he means _yes_ , and Niles laughs like he knows that, and the building heat spills over and Leo comes, shaking apart in Niles' lap.

"So good," Niles says. "You're so good, feel so good," and from the ragged hoarseness of his voice it sounds like he's close too. He takes Leo by the hips with both hands and thrusts into him hard, jarring, almost enough to hurt in the oversensitive moments following orgasm. Leo bites his lip and rides it out, savoring the terrible little fantasy Niles has built for him, the helplessness and surrender. He's a prisoner, at his captor's mercy, unable to resist whatever debauchery the villain has in mind—and that's the thought he's savoring when Niles comes, groaning, grip bruise-tight on his hips.

For a few long seconds, neither of them move. Niles' breathing is still raw and loud. One of his thumbs traces little absent circles over Leo's hipbone.

"Well?" Leo asks, his voice low and rough. "Are you satisfied?"

"Satisfied?" Niles echoes, incredulous. "Milord, you can't be serious. I've barely begun to take my satisfaction from you." He sits up, his cock shifting and slipping free, and he breathes the next sentence hot against Leo's throat. "I _might_ have gotten close by dawn."

Leo smiles, giddy and buoyant with pleasure, his heart singing. "Do your worst."


End file.
